Significantly Wider
by FountainOfYouth
Summary: -Weight problem? Call Ginny at "Wymocks" bookstore now- Desperate to fix his weight the muggle way, Blaise turns to the infamous grouchy "Wymocks" manager, Ginny Weasley.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter, not mine. Plot, mine. Touch my plot, DIE!

**Understanding How Wide**

**

* * *

**_I never really understood why girls never looked my way. There was nothing particularly wrong with me. I had more brains than half of Slytherin combined and enough money to last at least six more unemployed generations through my family… I wasn't as repulsive in my looks as those scrawny Gryffindors, but I guess I wasn't as handsome as someone like… say Draco._

A small boy ran gleefully up to a young and petite girl. "Pansy! Pansy, guess what? Father's teaching me how to ride today!" He stopped beside her and shuffled his feet nervously. "Do you want to ride too, Pansy?"

Pansy backed away from him and lifted her head up haughtily. "No, who would want to go riding with you? And anyway, I already know how to ride. I guess some people are a lot better then others, don't you think so too?" She glared at him, smiling cruelly at the tears in his eyes. "Go away, you're disgusting. I don't think you have any pretty horses do you? All brown, ugly and plain. Draco has horses, and they are so beautiful! All white, or all black. So no, I will not go riding with you." She turned away from him.

"Wait! I do have pretty horses, Pansy! Belle is a black horse, she's really pretty!" The boy caught her wrist to stop her from walking away.

"Oh, let go of me you freak! Don't touch me! Do you really think I would want to be around you even if you had pretty horses? No! So back off!" She pulled her wrist away from him and pushed him hard. He stumbled and fell onto the ground, the mud clinging to his clothes. Laughter rang throughout the grounds.

"Good one Pansy. I can't believe you could be so weak, that even a girl can push you over." A cute little blonde boy walked up towards them. "Draco! How are you?" Pansy launched herself into Draco's arms. "Blaise here was bothering me, so I taught him a lesson. Don't I make a good teacher, Draco?"

"Yes." Draco looked down at the fallen boy and kicked him in the leg, laughing as Blaise cried in pain. "Don't bother Pansy again you crybaby. Come on Pansy. Father bought some more horses, so let's go riding." Pansy squealed. "Of course, Draco! I bet that all your new horses are really pretty." They both walked off, and Pansy turned to poke her tongue out at Blaise.

The young boy heaved himself off the ground and swiped angrily at the tears on his face. "Why don't you like me Pansy? I haven't done anything wrong…" Blaise whispered brokenly to himself as he stared after the beautiful girl.

_Nothing changed over the next few years of my existence. The girls would go after the good-looking guys and I would be alone, with no one to go to Hogsmeade with, no one to hold onto to, and no one who was just there for me. I wasn't ugly, I knew that, so why didn't they like me? _

_I asked them, the girls who avoided me, why they did what they did. In the end, all I received was a response which I myself thought was stupid and morally wrong._

"_You're significantly wider this way." Would be their bland reply, and they would position their hands next to their bodies and move them both out sideways. Implying that I was on the big side, those little twits were. _

_I for one knew that I wasn't even half the size of Crabbe, or a third of Goyle. Big my ass. They had girls fawning over them 24/2, while Draco had them 24/7. I should have at least some girls between those times if all that mattered were your looks._

Christmas was just around the corner. Workers, businessmen and women, and children alike were anticipating the merry season which would bring vacation to them in a few days. The sun shone dimly at the buildings, doing little to light up and warm the day, but doing much to remind all that Christmas was indeed, coming soon.

Blaise strode into _"Le Gacroche"_, wrapped in a thick coat with a scarf wound around his neck. His usually pale face had turned a slight red from being bitten by the cold wind, but his dark azure eyes still stood out despite the temporary flaw. His black hair was wind blown, messy, and did nothing more than enhance his already desirable appearance.

One would agree that this 22 year old was indeed, a lean youngster wrapped in layers and layers of material suitable for Christmas weather, but one would be surprised when he took of his coat not to reveal more layers of coats or jumpers, but fashionable black dress pants, dark blue button up shirt and a black silk tie. No, this man, at second glance, was quite a good looking lad but a bit on the large side. Now, wasn't this man cold? One layer of thick warming material and then your thin everyday business suit?

Blaise handed his coat to the waiter and was led to a seat by the window. He sat down on the comfortable dining chair and accepted a menu. Flipping through it, he growled quietly, agitated that his 'date' had not yet arrived. He stared at the words on the page, but did nothing to understand them. Where was she?

"I see you're on time, Blaise." The seat across from him was soon filled with a feminine body clad in the latest fashion accessories.

"I see you're not." Blaise reached for her pale and delicate hand and kissed it gently, admiring the smooth skin that brushed against his lips.

"Now Blaise, don't go overboard. We haven't gone anywhere with our relationship yet, if you care to call it one." The woman slipped her hand away from his and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder, her emerald green eyes dull with boredom. "And my apologies for being late, I was caught up with something…" She looked at her fingernails, scanning them for any chips on the nail polish. She looked very sorry, Blaise noted dryly.

"Rather, you were caught up with someone?" He shifted in his chair.

"You could put it that way." She sighed. "Now what did you want Blaise? I'm sure we have much more… interesting things to discuss other than my life in the previous half hour?" Her eyebrows rose, and her pink, glossy lips tightened impatiently.

"Andrea, you know what I want. I want you. Go out with me Andrea, I'll give you anything you want." He eyed her hopefully, his fingers fidgeting anxiously, smoothing out the wrinkles on the white silk table cloth.

"Go out with you? Why Blaise? Why would I want to go out with you when I can have someone like Draco? Ever since I became his partner 3 months ago, he has never yet failed to bring me what I want and more. I doubt your family fortune could pay for the excessive amount of gifts he has showered me with. He's income in a year would most likely be worth a quarter of what you could earn in your own miserable lifetime. Apart from giving me trinkets that the majority of the wizarding world can only ever dream of, he has given me the pleasure that I have craved since I took my first breath of air twenty two years ago. Whatever you can give me; Draco can give me plus more. What makes you think that I would choose someone like you…" Here, Andrea glared at him spitefully. "Over someone like Draco?"

"And why not? Is money everything to you?" Blaise had a blank expression plastered onto his face.

"Don't be stupid. Money is all there is in the world. Without it, YOU-ARE-NOTHING. Your appearances are of course, extremely important in a society such as ours. People do judge you by your looks, and if I were to ever go out with you… Then my reputation would be ruined, would it not? Someone like me should never be seen with the likes of you." She leaned back in her chair, looking at him like he was nothing more than the boring history book that she had to read for school.

"And what is the problem in me that you find so despicable?" Swallowing the thick bile collecting in his mouth, Blaise fought to keep his face emotionless as he endured the pummeling of her words.

"Why Blaise," Andrea began lightly, her tone a mocking one. "You're too thin for your own good."

He stared at her, speechless at her audacity to mock him about something so trivial.

"To put it simply, you're wide. Horizontally wide."

There goes that word again. Wide. Would everyone he meets think the exact same thing?

"Lose that excess weight and we'll see about going out with you. I can't guarantee that I will though, because Draco will always be at the top of my list. You however, are dangerously close to the bottom, I'm afraid. If you are as desperate as you make yourself out to be, than see to it that you get rid of that flab. Keep in mind that you'll need to fix up a lot of problems with yourself before your name can surpass the 173 which are on my list. Weight isn't your only problem. Oh, and a word of advice? I prefer you use the muggle way of loosing weight. It will show me that you're man enough to handle a workout." She picked up her small, furry handbag and stood up from her seat. "If that is all?" She turned around and sauntered out of the restaurant.

Blaise stared at the empty chair before him, his eyes darkened by the insults she had thrown at him. Must she be so cruel? Is it not possible to accept him for who he was? Blaise shook his head, his eyes betraying his cool exterior with the despair that had built up over the years.

Blaise sighed heavily and stood up. His appetite was long gone even if he hadn't eaten anything. Leaving some money on the table, he grabbed his coat from the waiter and walked out of _"Le Gacroche"_.

It had been the same through the last 15 years of his lonely existence. All the girls were the same. The ones he liked, and the ones he didn't. They all avoided him like he was some microscopic parasite that they could, surprisingly, see, and all because he was wide. It seemed that all that mattered was, indeed, your appearance.

Blaise stared up at the cloudy sky. "If all that matters is your appearance, then I'll do whatever I can to meet up to Andrea's standards." He whispered into the air and nodded his head resolutely. Yes, he would do that. He would get a girl in the end, preferably Andrea.

* * *

**Yours truly, Fountain of Youth.**


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** Like said, plot mine. J.K. Rowling's people...

**Peace Treaty**

**

* * *

**He wandered around Diagon Alley, peering into shop windows for some clue of what the muggle way of losing weight was. He knew he was being stupid. Why look in a wizard's shopping alley for something muggle? But Blaise didn't know anything about the muggle world except handling money and buying things that girls like Andrea wanted. He didn't give a rat's ass about muggle items so why bother knowing about them?

His eyes lit up. The bookshop, your source for anything and everything, wizard or muggle alike. He eyed _"Wymocks"_ with new determination on his face. His answer would definitely be in there. He strode across the street, his stride long and purposeful.

Pushing at the door, Blaise let it hit the bell before it swung back into its frame. Other than the lone redheaded woman in aisle _"Cooking for Hopeless Beginners"_, the store seemed to be completely empty. Blaise walked up and down the aisles, scanning all the books for anything muggle as he went.

He had never realized how interesting muggles could actually be. The books resting on the shelves proved that. Blaise eyed the book _"Muggles: The difference between toy cars and cars"_. He didn't know if that book would be of help in his current situation. Blaise moved on down the aisle. _"Welcome to the Bathroom"_ looked like an interesting read. He ventured further into the bookshop, stopping every now and then to gaze at a book that might help him.

"Oh, it's only you." A soft voice drifted over to him and he turned around to face the same redheaded woman he had seen in the cooking section earlier. "I never thought I'd live to see the day that Blaise Zabini would be browsing the muggle section of a book store."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her. And who was this? She was quite a small female, almost half the size of him and only came up to his shoulder height. She had fiery red hair and light blue eyes. A faint sprinkle of freckles lay over her small nose. The woman squirmed under his intense gaze.

"Weaselette?" He eyed her with surprise. She had grown over the last 5 years. Well, not grown. She had matured and filled out quite nicely, but otherwise, she still maintained her small frame. Blaise looked at her shrewdly. Her temper on the other hand…

"I would appreciate it if you called me using my name? You aren't the only one with a name you know." Her face turned slightly red as she glared at him and folded her arms across her chest. No, her temper hadn't changed at all.

Blaise stared at her blankly. Name… Oh god, he had forgotten her name. What was her name? He racked his brain, beating himself up for forgetting her name. He wouldn't be the only one beating him up for forgetting such a thing… He glanced at her. No, he wouldn't be. Oh god, what was it?

"Right, Weasley is it?" Blaise could feel sweat appearing on his skin.

"It's Ginny you dope!" She slapped him lightly on the arm.

So that was it, Ginny. He grinned. Saved by sheer luck. "So, what are you doing here? I saw you in the cooking section earlier… Are you really that hopeless?" He saw her stiffening. "I didn't mean it that way, of course. I always thought you were beyond hopeless so being hopeless is a better thing…" Blaise trailed off uncertainly and backed away into a bookshelf. He didn't mean it that way either…

Ginny shot him the most vicious glare she could muster and turned her back on him. Blaise sighed. At least he wasn't getting slapped for it. Oh no. Not slapped, but much worse. Ginny turned around slowly, her eyes as red as her hair. She was holding a thick tome in her petite and pale hands. No, definitely not slapped.

"You complete despicable, idiotic, moronic moron!" The book came crashing onto his shoulder, and Blaise stumbled under the force. "You're going down!"

Blaise dodged the next blow. "I'm not hopeless at all you freak! If it's one thing I'm good at, it's killing people like you with a book!

Ginny's next shot with the book landed on his back and he fell onto the ground. She dropped the book and hopped onto his back, jumping with all the force she had. "And it wouldn't hurt you to know that I'm the manager of this store!" She continued to pound his back with her slightly dirty Converse shoes.

Not hurt to know? It hurt like hell! Blaise groaned in pain as the shoes continued to sign their autograph into his back.When Ginny launched herself back upwards for another attack, he rolled out from under her and tackled her when she touched down.

"And it wouldn't hurt you to know that knowing you were the manager did indeed hurt!" He pinned her face down on the floor and straddled her back, locking her arms by her side with his legs.

"You'll die Zabini!" Ginny bent her knees and sent both her feet flying into his back. She continued her newly discovered attack.

"God, can't you stop picking on my back, kid?" He laid himself flat on her back where her feet couldn't reach him. "I'm not a kid! Get yourself off me!" She struggled under his weight.

"Look, I didn't mean what I said. I was only joking. I'm sorry." When she continued to shift under him he continued. "I'll treat you out to dinner alright? Any restaurant you want, anything you want if we can stop this. Deal?" She stopped.

"Fine." Her muffled reply drifted from the floor. "Now get my face out of the carpet." Blaise chuckled, slid off her back and pulled her off the floor.

"For someone who's 21, you're as light as a cheesecake." He handed her the tome. "Cheesecakes aren't light you idiot, they're probably 80 percent saturated fat." Blaise didn't have a clue what saturated fat was, so he ignored her quiet comment. "I'd bet anyone could mistaken you for a kid." He murmured to her while she brushed off her clothes. Blaise tried to hide the twitching of his lips. "It's only that area which would prove otherwise." He gestured towards the slight bulge around her chest area.

The next thing Blaise knew, a small but dangerous looking fist was flying towards his face with amazing speeds.

"Pervert!" Ginny's fist landed with deadly accuracy, and soon enough, blood was dribbling out of Blaise's nose. He cupped his face. "What was that for?" He glared at her over his fingers.

She rolled her eyes. "Like you wouldn't know. Does it hurt?" She stepped closer to him.

"Yes, it hurts like hell!" He shuffled away from her before she could inflict more damage on him.

"Good. Now let's get this cleaned up." After a few waves and incantations, all the blood had disappeared and the condition of Blaise's nose was back to normal.

He glared at her. What a sadistic little girl. He could see that she enjoyed seeing others in pain. "Alright. Be here by 6:30 tonight to pick me up for that dinner you promised me. Don't forget and dress in muggle clothes. Make sure it's formal and bring a lot of Muggle money. You'll be needing it." A bossy little girl too. He watched her retreat back towards the entrance of the bookshop, then remembered the reason why he was here in the first place.

"Wait up, Weaselette!" He caught up to her. She sighed and turned around. "What do you want, Zabini?" He stared at her. "You took up Muggle studies back in Hogwarts didn't you?" She nodded slowly. "Yes…" Blaise smiled brightly. "I'll take you out some more if you can you teach me how to lose weight the muggle way?"


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: ...please read previous chapters for my abusive disclaimers...  
**

**Unconscious Abuse**

**

* * *

**"Now tell me, what was it you wanted?" She stepped into the brightly lit room, clutching tightly onto her small black handbag. Blaise entered after her, glancing at the white marbled floor and expensive furniture. He nodded in approval- it was very unweasleyish indeed. Nothing like eating in style.

He grinned. "I thought I've told you more than enough times, Weaselette. I would take you out to dinner, because of your obvious lack of skills in the kitchen," Ginny turned and hit him on the shoulder, "and in return, you would teach me how to lose weight the muggle way." He rubbed his shoulder in mock pain, pushing her lightly from behind as payback.

"And why does it need to be the muggle way?" Ginny strode over to the reception desk and was greeted by a stiff waiter with an oddly styled moustache and hair gelled back.

Blaise gave an exasperated sigh, peering over her head and suppressed a smile at the man's ridiculous dress-up. "It's a manly thing to do. By handling the pain," He could see that the waiter had done a very good job at it- there were faint comb marks on his scalp, "I would be able to render the fem-"

"Zabini."

Blaise scowled at her. "What is it this time?"

Ginny peered up at him with amused eyes. "I wasn't talking to you, idiot. The waiter needed to know if we had a reservation or not." She followed the man as he showed the way to their table, proudly walking with his suit tail trailing behind him.

"And you used my name because?" He raised his eyebrows at her back, marveling at how the simple black dress could look so dashing on someone who could be called a child.

"As you're paying for the meal, you also get the honor of having your name marked down for table number 7 at 6:45 pm, in a hard cover records book." Ginny thanked the waiter quietly, as he pulled the chair out for her. "Exciting isn't it? You're famous." She smiled mockingly at him as he sat down.

"Madam, sir, may I take your beverage order?"

"Give me your best red wine, and the lady would have?" Blaise gestured to Ginny as she stared uncertainly at the waiter.

"Do you happen to have any juice? Preferably apple?" Ginny blushed as the words left her lips, and Blaise blinked.

"Juice, madam?" The waiter slightly raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, I do believe that the young lady said juice." Blaise challenged the waiter, the corner of his lips turned upwards.

The waiter coughed an apology, excused himself with a "Your order will arrive shortly.", and scurried away with a flustered face after he had left the menus on the table.

Blaise turned to Ginny. "Juice?"

She glared at him, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. "You mean to tell me that you don't know, even after you told him that juice was what I wanted?" The napkin on her lap had creases after being repeatedly strangled by a pair of small hands in humiliation.

"You're how old? Twenty one and you still drink juice? You'll ruin restaurant property" Blaise mumbled the last part to himself and leaned over to pluck the mangled napkin out of her grasp. "Have you even tried wine? Some types taste better then juice, you know?"

She frowned at him and stared longingly at the cloth held in his large hand. "I'm twenty." Ignoring the quiet "Know wonder she picked juice.", Ginny went on. "Juice is healthy, tastes wonderful, and I have low alcohol intolerance. Plus, you would be paying for anything that I destroy." She made a move to retrieve her napkin, but the waiter had returned with their drinks.

"Ah, right on time." Blaise held up the napkin. "Would you be so kind as to give this young lady another one? She seems to have crushed the cloth in her sudden state of madness. Do forgive her, she's only a child. Twenty, I hear."

The waiter accepted the napkin in shocked silence. Having an upper class male insulting a lady was new. Very new. He cleared his throat. "May I take your orders? Madam? Sir?"

Blaise handed the unused menus in smug satisfaction while the female before him fumed in silence. "We'll both have today's special. It does sound wonderful, like all the other dishes on hand." Lying through his teeth, Blaise took a sip of his wine.

"Excellent choice, sir." The waiter walked away in pompous grace.

"You will die." Ginny took in a large mouthful of apple juice to calm her anger. "You will suffer. I will not help you lose weight. Out of the question. No. Impossible. Never in my life."

"Think about your kitchen, and those hands. What about your taste buds?" He offered his glass to her. "Try some. Excellent stuff."

"Anything's better then helping you." She swiped the glass from his hands and drank half of its contents; mindless of what it was, having already finished her own glass down to the last drop. "And it wasn't a fair deal. Dinner isn't worth much when I have to pay for your entry fee to the gym or pool. It's beautiful."

"What? The pool?" Blaise stared at her in amusement.

"No, no, don't be stupid." She smiled wryly at him. "This!" Ginny waved the glass with extreme hand movements, the wine sloshed dangerously, threatening to spill over the white tablecloth. Blaise reached out and steadied her hand.

"Calm." He looked into her eyes. "You do know what this is right?" He saw the slight confusion in them.

"A drink?" She laughed. "Stop pushing me off the subject. You know its unfair right? Where were we…" She extracted her hand and the glass from him and took a sip.

Blaise sighed and wrestled the glass from her. "It's called wine." He made sure to keep the glass away from her wiggling fingers. "Talk about low alcohol intolerance."

"Blaise!" She whined and stretched her small form across the table, reaching for the glass.

"Wait! Eat first, drink later. I'll give you as much as you want later if you behave." Blaise sighed in relief when the food arrived. "Please, take this away for now. She can't handle too much alcohol." Blaise smiled apologetically at the waiter who nodded, staring at the drunken, red haired woman.

"Blaise…" Ginny stared woefully up at him.

"Ginny," He spoke warningly. "Eat."

She stared down at her salad, her face darkened by deprivation of wine. "You're not my father, you know. I'm not a child either." She picked up her fork and stabbed at an olive.

"No, not your father, but I'm older then you, and with the way you're behaving, one would mistaken you for a child." Blaise gave her a small smile and gestured at her plate. "Eat and stop picking on the olive. No matter how much you wish for it, that olive can never be me."

Ginny placed a piece of tomato in her mouth and chewed on it. "You're not much older then me though." She continued to empty her porcelain plate.

"Not much older, but still, I'm almost twenty three." Blaise forked some of his lettuce into his mouth.

"An adult? And you still need my help?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "I never really found out why you wanted to lose weight. You look perfectly fine to me."

"I look perfectly fine to you because you're drunk. I can bet on my wallet that you're seeing a pole, not a man." He finished off his lettuce quickly and watched her nibbling on the cheese.

"No, you look fine. But tell me, why do you want to do this? Guys don't usually care about their appearances. It's the girls who do all the worrying. Unless… You can't be! Blaise!" Ginny stared at him in shock, her fork poised in mid air, ready to launch another attack on her vegetables.

Blaise stared at her, clueless.

"You're gay! That is so cute!" She squealed and clung to his shirt sleeves. "Who's the lucky man?"

Blaise turned a deep shade of red and glanced around, smiling nervously at onlookers. "There is no lucky man!" He glared at her and freed himself from her hold.

"Oh… You poor thing!" Ginny had brought the napkin up to her mouth in horror, tears welling in her eyes.

Blaise sighed and buried his head in his hands. "Look, I don't have a 'lucky man' because I'm not gay." His head came up to stare at her expression.

Her mouth was opened in a delicate 'o', and the tears quickly evaporated leaving behind shocked blue orbs. "Not gay?" She stood up. "Excuse me… I think I'll take a trip to the lavatory…" Her face sported a bright red hue as she walked away.

"I'm not gay." Blaise muttered to himself and signaled for the waiter to bring their next course. Rib cage. Superb.

"The lady's salad, sir?" Blaise noted that her plate was only half finished. "Please, take it away. She wishes to move onto the next course quickly."

Blaise turned to his food. To eat? Or not to eat? That is the question. He decided to wait for Ginny; it was, after all, a manly thing to do. Blaise sat there quietly and looked on as the small wisps of steam slowly dissipated from his meal. His hand hovered over the meat. It was cold. Blaise stood up in agitation, and followed the path to the bathrooms.

He stopped outside the female lavatory. Would there be anyone in there? Blaise leaned against a nearby wall and watched the door. It hadn't moved for several minutes. He pushed it open and scanned the room. There, sitting on the counter in the corner was Ginny- unconscious.

"Ginny, you shouldn't have taken that drink." Blaise strode over to her and shook her awake. "Wake up, sunshine." Pulling her off the counter, Blaise half dragged, half carried her over to the door. "Wake up and give me a hand. You're unbelievably heavy."

Ginny buried her head into his jacket. "Turn off the light, dimwit. Can't you see I'm sleeping?" Her mumbles that were muffled into his shirt were soon followed by light snoring.

Blaise frowned at her. "Hey, don't sleep on me!" He slapped her gently on the cheeks. "Up you get!"

She punched him in the stomach and told him to "Shut up!" before wrapping her arms around his neck and settling her weight into his arms. Blaise, grimacing at the pain, lifted her up and used her body to push open the door. "One thing you're good at…" Carrying her over to the reception area, Blaise paid the waiter for the meal.

"But sir, you have not finished yet?" The waiter was astonished that someone could push away the good food.

"Yes, well, we're a bit occupied right now. Goodnight." Blaise stalked out of the restaurant, unconscious girl and all in his arms. Stepping into an abandoned alleyway, he checked around for any muggles. "Hey, where do you live?" He took out his wand, ready to apparate to Ginny's home. She continued to snore lightly, no doubt dreaming about Potter, if that smile indicated anything. Blaise stared grimly down at her. Fumbling at her handbag, he searched for an I.D card of some sort. Instead he found a small piece of creased toilet paper:

_Hey, gay! I'm not feelling tooo well right now… Everything's blurrie… Haha, what did you feeed me? You better be takking me home! I live at "Slytherins should be put to sleep"… take me… hooome._

_

* * *

__  
_


End file.
